


To Boldly Go

by feveredpitch



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Star Trek AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feveredpitch/pseuds/feveredpitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>an academy era ian x mickey star trek au - ian gallagher alway felt like he was destined for greater things. when he turned 18 he decided to enlist in starfleet and on the shuttle ride he meets someone who is going to change his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ex astris, scientia

**Author's Note:**

> a huge thank you to [vickie](http://oliverhamptcn.tumblr.com/) for being the best beta & cheerleader i could ask for. this is setting up for ian x mickey at the starfleet academy and a lot of the first chapter has been taken from star trek to kind of set everything up // [come visit me on tumblr!](http://noelsfisher.tumblr.com)

Lip made fun of him a lot when they were growing up. _You should be skipping school and feeling up girls in dark theaters, not fucking staring at the stars all night._

Well, those were two things that made Ian different.

Everyone talked about their dreams and goals and ambitions but Ian was never sure what his were; until the day he saw the wrinkled flyer tacked to the bulletin board near his locker.

_Starfleet Academy. Reach for the stars!_

Ian quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching as he jerked the flyer off the board and shoved it into his backpack. He didn't want to deal with Lip mocking him about it. Didn't want to hear Fiona guilt him about wanting to leave because we're a family and families stick together.

He was 17 years old, only a couple months shy of the recruiting age. And every night until then he pulled the wrinkled flyer out of his bag and stared at it, knowing this is where he belonged.

***

On the morning of his 18th birthday, Ian skipped school and went straight the local recruiting office. It was rainy and cold, normal weather for this time of the year in Chicago. He couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty at avoiding Lip and Fiona's curious glances this morning as he hurried through breakfast to get out of the door. He’s going to feel even worse when he tells them he's leaving home, but that's a conversation for another day.

He walked up to the desk to register and the secretary told him to take a seat, that Captain Pike would see him shortly.

He walked around the office, observing the posters lining the walls. Not just for the Academy, but tourist posters for Risa and advertisements for classes where you can learn Klingon and Rihannsu. Ian tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach and the huge grin he knew was covering his face, but he couldn't help it.

"Mr. Gallagher," the receptionist called out, "Captain Pike will see you now."

Ian felt the butterflies build up again as he entered the office of Captain Christopher Pike. He had heard stories of Captain Pike growing up, each of them more grandiose than the last. He entered the office and was greeted with a warm smile and a gesture for Ian to take the seat across from him.

"You know, I couldn't believe it when my secretary told me who you were."

The words made Ian sit up a little straighter and huff slightly in disbelief. Of course, he didn't know why he thought he wouldn't get recognized at Starfleet of all places. But still, he wasn't coming here to live in his father's shadow. "Who am I, Captain Pike?"

"Your father's son."

Ian sat silently as Pike's words soaked into him. He had never met his father before, he died only moments after Ian was born, but he had heard all of the stories. His father was a hero who had saved the lives of hundreds of people, including his own. His father sacrificed himself for the greater good. His father was a legend he knew he was never going to live up to.

Pike must have sensed Ian wasn't going to say anything so he continued. "For my dissertation, I was assigned the USS Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad - he didn't believe in no-win scenarios."

Ian snorted, "Sure learned his lesson."

Pike cocked his head at Ian, obviously amused. "Well, it depends on how you define winning. You're here aren't you?" Ian raised his eyebrow and Pike, who ignored him, continued talking. "I've heard a lot about you, Ian. And I have been wondering when I was going to see you walk through these doors. You are too much like your father to stay here on Earth."

Curiosity finally had gotten the best of Ian. "What have you heard about me?"

"I know that your family would disapprove of you being here. I know that you think you are going to be stuck on the Southside forever, without hope. I know you think you're just going to end up being another statistic; either dead or in jail by the end of your teen years. Your aptitude tests are off the charts. Everyone is so focused on your brother Lip that no one is looking at you.  You're more than just another statistic, Ian."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room for another minute, as Ian shifted around.

"Let me ask you a question, Ian. Why do you want to join Starfleet?"

Ian's eyes met Captain Pike's and he could tell the Captain was genuinely curious. And Ian realized right then that he didn't have a good answer for that question, so he just shrugged.

"It's okay, you don't have to have a reason. But let me tell you this, if you're half the man your father was, Starfleet is lucky to have you. You could be an officer in four years. You could have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don't you? It's a peacekeeping and humanitarian armanda."

Ian nodded his head, even though none of that was important to him. He just knew Starfleet wasn’t here.

Captain Pike stood and reached over to shake Ian's hand. "Lake Michigan Shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow morning, 0800."

Ian eagerly nodded and shook Pike's hand quickly before reaching down to grab his bag. He got as far as the door before Pike spoke up one last time.

"Ian," Pike spoke softly causing Ian to turn.

Pike walked around from behind his desk, stood in front of Ian and clasped his shoulder, a gesture that almost seemed fatherly. "Your father was a captain of a Starship for 12 minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's. Including yours. I dare you to do better."

***

The next morning, after too many tears from Fiona and an eye roll from Lip about how _you're throwing your life away_ , Ian boarded the shuttle heading to Starfleet Academy.

He closed his eyes and tried to keep his knee from bouncing, trying to ignore the guilt that was building in his stomach over leaving his family. As much as he loved his siblings, he couldn't stay in Chicago anymore. He had thought for years he would never leave, but the day that he found out Frank wasn’t his real father was the day Ian started looking for a way out.

As soon as Ian had seen the flyer, he knew that was what he wanted to do with his life. To explore space and discover new civilizations.

He needed there to be more to his life than being the literal red-headed Step Gallagher.

The shuttle started quieting down as the last few passengers filed in and took their seats. Ian’s breathing started to even out and his jitters were calming the closer they got to takeoff. He took a deep breath and let his mind wander with dreams of exploration and new worlds. As the bay doors closed and the attendants and pilots prepared for takeoff, Ian heard yelling.

“No, I don’t need a doctor, I am a fucking doctor!”

It only took a moment for Ian to locate the commotion that was delaying their shuttle. The guy looked only a year or two older than him. He didn’t look like he had showered in a few days and was clearly drunk off his ass, getting belligerent with the shuttle attendants.

“Sir, you need to get back to your seat.”

“I had a fuckin’ seat! In the bathroom with no windows!”

“You need to get back in your seat NOW!”

“Listen, I have aviophobia. You know what that is? It’s fear of dying in something that flies. Kind of like this piece of shit!”

“Sir, for your own safety, sit down or else I’ll make you sit down!”

The expression on the man’s face reminded Ian of a bull before it charged, red faced and flared nostrils. He was half expecting him to charge, but instead he straightened his jacket and turned to find an empty seat. Ian looked around and quickly realized the only one available was the one next to him.

The man flopped down next to Ian, quickly buckling up and double, triple, quadruple checking his seatbelt and harness making sure he was as secure as possible. He reached into his bag and pulled out a flask, preparing to medicate himself during the shuttle flight to the Academy.

He turned to look at Ian, like he had just noticed him and Ian couldn’t help but smile sunnily at him. Ian couldn’t put his finger on why, but he was drawn to the man on his left. His smile grew wider as the other man leaned into him and spoke.

“I might throw up on you.”

Ian could smell the whiskey rolling off him, like the man had bathed in it. The scent was soaked into the other man’s skin and as he leaned in Ian could see the dark circles under his eyes and the dirt lining the creases of his skin.

“I think these things are pretty safe.”

The man rolled his eyes and scoffed at Ian’s attempt to be reassuring. “Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. Solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait’ll you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles, see if you’re still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

He huffed melodramatically and Ian couldn’t help but laugh. It seems like a career choice wouldn’t involve having to deal with your greatest fear everyday.

“Y’know, I hate to break it to you, but Starfleet operates in space.”

His words were met with a short laugh and a long drink from the flask. “Yeah. Well, I got nowhere else to go.”

He didn’t elaborate and Ian didn’t push him to. They rode in silence for a few moments until Ian saw movement out of his peripheral. He looked over and the other man raised an eyebrow at him, holding out his flask as some sort of peace offering.

Ian took it and nodded his head in thanks before taking a quick drink. It burned going down and instantly made him warm and relaxed all over. He handed the flask back and when the other man’s fingers brushed up against his, the touch was electric. Ian felt his brain short circuit for a moment, scrambling to figure out what else he could say.

“I’m Ian Gallagher, by the way.”

“Milkovich. MIckey Milkovich.”

Ian’s ears perked up at the last name. It had been years since he had heard the Milkovich name and he wondered briefly if Mickey had a sister named Mandy, his best friend growing up.

“Milkovich? You aren’t related to--” Mickey shot Ian a look that plainly meant stop fucking talking right now and Ian obliged, not wanting to ruin their friendship before it even started. An awkward silence filled the space as Mickey kept drinking and Ian tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound stupid.

“So, you really a doctor?”

Mickey snorted and cracked a smile at Ian’s question. “Fuck no, man. But who knows, maybe I will be someday.”

***

Ian lost track of Mickey not long after the shuttle landed. He had half a mind to wander around the campus chasing after him, but he figured he could do that after he settled in his room. It took him almost half an hour to find his dorm, which of course was tucked in the back corner of the campus

He walked up to the help desk and stood there, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the pretty Orion girl to put down the newest issue of Starfleet’s Best Dressed Captains. He got tired of waiting fairly quickly and cleared his throat obnoxiously, causing the Orion to roll her eyes and slam her magazine down.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah I need to get my room assignment. My name is Gallagher. Ian Gallagher.” He cringed as he said his name, knowing he had more chance of getting recognized here because of his lineage than back on Earth.

The girl’s ears perked up when he said his name and he could see her internal struggle, curiosity finally getting the better of her. “Gallagher? As in Clayton Gallagher?”

Ian huffed impatiently not wanting to get into a discussion of how great his father was. Instead he just stayed silent and held out his hand for his card so he could get up to his room and maybe, finally, get some sleep. As soon as he felt the swipe card in his palm, he closed his fingers around it and raced for the nearest elevator.

He found his room easily and swiped his keycard in. The first thing he noticed was his roommate had gotten here well before he had and already staked his claim on the right half of the room. He could hear his roommate in the shower and resisted the urge to poke through the other guy’s belongings, just to get a hint on who he was stuck with for the next two years.

Instead, he flopped on his bed and searched his bag until he found his PADD. He quickly sent messages to Fiona and Lip letting them know he had made it the Academy safely. He settled back into his pillows and was getting ready to pull up the latest chapter in the dystopian novel he was reading when he heard the bathroom door open. When he turned to look and see who his roommate was, he was pleasantly surprised.

“Hello again Mickey Milkovich,” Ian said cheerily, knowing full well he had the stupidest grin on his face.

“Seriously, Gallagher? You stalkin’ me now?”

“Yeah, that’s totally my M.O. Came all the way to Starfleet Academy to trail after the first hot guy I lay my eyes on.” Ian regretted the words as soon as they came out but he couldn’t help but notice the way Mickey’s cheeks pinkened at the compliment.

“I hope to god you aren’t always this fuckin’ annoying. Would hate to have to chop you up and throw you in the river.” Mickey was using his best “intimidator” voice but Ian just smiled.

“Nah, I don’t think you would,” Ian replied. “In fact, Mickey Milkovich, I think me and you are going to be best friends.”

 

 


	2. getting to know you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mickey is a frustrating roommate, but ian might be getting him to open up a bit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has sent me sweet words about this! and as always thank you to [vickie](http://oliverhamptcn.tumblr.com) for being my amazing editor + sounding board

Mickey Milkovich was going to be the death of him, Ian was sure of that. Most of his days he went back and forth between wanting to kiss the guy and wanting to punch him. He was by far the worst roommate he had ever had, and that’s saying a lot considering the fact he lived in the same room as Carl for the last 12 years.

Ian came back late one night after his Interspecies Ethics lecture to, once again, find Mickey’s dirty laundry strewn all across the floor.

“God fucking dammit,” Ian muttered under his breath as he tried to clear a bath to his bed. “MICKEY!”

“Fuckin’ what, Gallagher?”

Ian looked at Mickey, trying hard not to stare. It was easy for him to get lost in Mickey’s electric blue eyes and the way his easy smirk filled his face.

It was also hard not to imagine kissing that smirk right off MIckey’s face. He shook his head and tried to erase any images of kissing his roommate and tried to focus on his anger instead.

“Were you an only child?”  

Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian’s seemingly out of the blue question. “What’s it to you?”

“Just fucking curious, because it doesn’t seem like you have ever shared a living space with another human being before. Your underwear is on my pillow for Christ’s sake!” Ian emphasized his point by grabbing a pen and launching the offending garment at Mickey’s head.

Mickey responded with a duck and a laugh, enjoying Ian’s obvious discomfort. “Sorry, Red. My brothers were older and kept to their own spaces. I guess I was spoiled in that way.”

Ian stopped short because it was the first bit of personal information Mickey had given him in the month they had been at Starfleet Academy.

“Brother’s, huh? Any other siblings?” Ian’s mind drifted back to his childhood and the pretty Milkovich girl he called his best friend. Mickey gave him a sharp glance and that was the end of that conversation.

Ian held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, man.”

The subject was dropped for the moment and an awkward silence filled the room until Mickey spoke again. “You wanna go get a beer or somethin’, man?”

***

They went to Roscoe’s, a dirty bar on the outskirts of campus. It was a dingy bar that not a lot of the students went to, and Ian could see why. He could also tell that’s why Mickey wanted to come here. He didn’t know a lot about Mickey Milkovich yet, but he did know the other man preferred to not be around other people.

They each ordered a beer and sat in a booth tucked in the back corner. It felt intimate to Ian, for lack of a better word. He noticed that Mickey seemed slightly anxious, his knee bouncing and he kept gnawing on his bottom lip.

“So,” Ian started, “where are you from?”

Mickey looked at Ian, slightly amused before answering. “Didn’t realize you brought me here to play 20 Questions, Red.”

“Well, technically you brought me here,” Ian pointed out to him.

“Yeah, to get drunk. Not as a goddamn date.”

Ian willed his cheeks not to get pink as he took a long drink of his beer. He knew this wasn’t a date, knew he didn’t stand a chance, but he still wanted to get to know his roommate better.

“Well fuckin’ excuse me for wantin’ to get to know the person who is gonna be sleepin’ three feet away from me for the next three years.” Ian tried not to sound bitter as he spoke but knew he failed miserably.

Mickey’s face softened at Ian’s tone and expression, so at least Ian’s pouting was getting him somewhere. They sat in silence for a few minutes drinking their beers before Mickey finally spoke.

“Chicago.”

Ian’s hand froze halfway to his mouth, beer still in hand. It took him a few seconds to realize Mickey was answering his previous questions; and a few seconds after that for him to realize that _holy shit Mickey and I grew up in the same city._

His immediate thought is that he’s about 90% sure now that Mickey is related to Mandy Milkovich, his childhood best friend that he hadn’t seen in almost a decade. His second thought, that came directly after the first, was he knew he wasn’t going to be able to ask Mickey about it for a long time.

Ian knew he needed to respond to Mickey and simply replied, “Huh. No shit?” He didn’t need to tell Mickey that’s where he grew up too; it’s a common known fact that the famous Gallaghers were from Chicago and were never going to be anywhere else.

“So why Starfleet then?” Ian asked.

Mickey shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet Ian’s eye. “Just a last minute decision. Figured I might as well. I’m fucked for life anyway, man.”

Ian opened his mouth to ask a follow-up question but closed it quickly, thinking better of it. The air around their tiny corner booth was tense and Ian couldn’t think of a way to break it. He didn’t have to worry about it long though before Mickey started his inquisition.

“Here’s my question: why does everyone talk about you like you’re hot shit.” Mickey’s tone wasn’t mean or accusatory, it was genuine curiosity. ‘

Ian couldn’t help but stare at him, his mouth agape. “You’ve never heard about my father?” Ian was used to everyone knowing his life story the moment they saw him. It would be a godsend if he had found the one person in the entire Federation who didn’t connect him with Captain Gallagher.

Mickey just shrugged, looking both embarrassed and nonchalant. It was a difficult combination to pull off, but Mickey did it with ease.

Ian decided to give him the short story of his hero father. “My dad was a captain for 12 seconds. He piloted the ship while everyone got into the escape shuttles, including my mother and I. He saved hundreds of lives and sacrificed himself for the greater good.”

He kept the rest of the story to himself. About how his mother had gone to stay with Clayton’s brother, Frank, when they got back to Earth. About how she only stayed for a couple weeks. About how she couldn’t stand the sight of Ian, the constant reminder that her husband was dead. Ian was still raised a Gallagher, but grew up thinking Frank was his father. Didn’t know any different until him and his brother Lip had gone to get paternity tests done as a joke a few years back.

“How old were you?” Mickey asked.

Ian snorted. “About 20 minutes old.” Ian stared at his beer while old feelings of anger and resentment started creeping in his chest again.

“Well fuck him then.”

Ian’s eyes snapped up at Mickey’s words and Ian was surprised at his expression. Mickey’s eyes were hard and full of anger, matching the feelings that Ian often carried inside of him.

“Like, I get it. He’s a hero - good for him. But at the same time? Fuck him. That’s a dick move, right there, knowingly abandoning your wife and newborn son.

Ian couldn’t think of a response so he just murmured a quiet, “yeah.”

The topic of Clayton Gallagher wasn’t picked back up and soon Mickey and Ian were drunk, exchanging stories about growing up, laughing as if they were old friends. Ian decided he adored drunk Mickey, whose eyes crinkled with laughter and hands gestured wildly when he got into telling a story.

Mickey was in the middle of telling a story about a double-dicked Andorian that picked him up for the night, when the realization hit a very drunk Ian.

“Wait a second,” Ian interrupted. “Are you gay?”  
Mickey smiled at Ian and licked his lips, a common habit for Mickey. A habit that had suddenly become very distracting. “Maybe I am, Red. What’s it to ya?”

This was getting to be a dangerous game. He wanted nothing more than to drag Mickey to the bathroom that was only a few feet away and fuck him with reckless abandon. But he also knew that fucking his roommate was possibly the worst idea in existence.

Ian smiled back at Mickey, trying to pretend he didn’t notice Mickey’s flirtatious tone. “Just wonderin’. You talk a lot, that’s just the first time I’ve really heard you talk about yourself.”  
Mickey’s smile tightened and the laughter left his eyes as he spoke again. “Guess I always knew I was different from my brothers and my dad, especially when it came to that. But that shit wasn’t tolerated in my house so I grew up having to pretend. And I got really fuckin’ good at pretending to be someone I really wasn’t. Got used to biting my fist to keep from screaming; got used to back alleys and dark corners.” Mickey quickly downed the rest of his beer and simultaneously raised his hand, motioning for the bartender to bring them another. He slammed his pint glass down and quickly fished a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it. Ian gave him a moment to collect himself after his confession before continuing.  

“So you’ve never dated anyone before?” Ian asked.

“Nah,” Mickey replied, smiling around his cigarette. “Never really had the desire. I’m not exactly ‘boyfriend material’. Not like you.”

Ian cocked his head at that statement. “What do you mean _not like me_?”

Mickey snorted. “You fuckin’ serious, Gallagher. Have you seen you? You’re like the cookie cutter boy next door. I bet every mother you’ve met has creamed herself over you.”

Ian smiled wide. “Nah, I never really dated anyone either. Mostly just fucked.”

Mickey grabbed his beer again, pausing right before it touched his lips. “Kinda wish we had run into each other sometime, back in Chicago.”

Ian instantly got warm and tried to tell himself it was from the alcohol in his system, not his roommate’s words. His heart was racing and his palms were sweaty and he knew he should shut this down before it even started, but he didn’t have the heart or the desire to.

Instead he picked his glass up and clinked it against Mickey’s, an odd toast to what could have been. “Yeah, me too.”


	3. thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mickey's past is the thing of nightmares and ian is starting to think the only thing he's good for is his father's name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who is giving me so much love on this! and as always thank you to [vickie](http://oliverhamptcn.tumblr.com) for being an absolute life saver

Ian had only been asleep for a few hours before he woke up suddenly; he wasn’t sure if it was the violent roll of thunder from outside his window or the soft screams across the dorm that woke him up. It had started to rain a few hours earlier as they drunkenly stumbled back to their dorm room from Roscoe’s; Ian repeatedly stealing glances to admire how Mickey’s wet t-shirt clung to his biceps. Neither of them were awake for very long once they got back to their room, quickly stripping before climbing into their respective beds.

Ian sat up and listened closely to the sounds coming out of Mickey; judging by the cries, it was obvious his roommate was having some sort of a nightmare, but Ian wasn’t sure if he should wake Mickey up or not. It wasn’t too loud, so Ian decided to roll over and go back to sleep. However, his head barely touched his pillow before Mickey’s cries turned to screams. Ian sat up again and crossed the room to Mickey’s bed. Ian’s hand hovered over Mickey’s body, still unsure about waking him up.

_“DON’T! STOP! LET HER GO!”_

Ian jerked his hand back at Mickey’s screams. He stood there a few more moments watching Mickey twitch and cry out before sitting on the edge of the bed and gently shaking Mickey’s shoulder.

“Mickey, wake up man,” Ian pleaded as he shook Mickey harder. After about a minute Mickey shot up, his eyes wild and his breathing erratic. He had his arm in the air like it was mid swing, but luckily for Ian, Mickey seemed to realize where he was before he took action. They both sat in a stare down for a couple of minutes while Mickey tried to get his breathing back to normal.

“You okay?” Ian felt stupid as soon as he asked; it was obvious that Mickey wasn’t okay. It was also obvious that he wasn’t going to talk about it. Mickey nodded shakily, not meeting Ian’s eyes and Ian nodded back in acknowledgement, turning to return to his own bed.

“Don’t,” Mickey said, grabbing Ian’s wrist to keep him from going back to his own bed. Ian turned back to look at Mickey, confused, until Mickey pulled gently at Ian’s wrist and scooted over as much as he could in his tiny twin bed to make room for Ian.

Ian got the hint and laid down on his side while Mickey did the same.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Mickey shook his head. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about the nightmare that had haunted his dreams for the last 12 years. Maybe one day, but at that moment all he wanted to do was sleep.

Ian nodded his head in understanding and closed his eyes. Mickey stared at him for a few moments, staring at the freckles scattered across Ian’s face that were illuminated by the moonlight. Finally, Mickey closed his eyes as well and it wasn’t long before they were both fast asleep.

****

The first thing Mickey noticed when he woke up in the morning was the arm wrapped around his middle, which he surprisingly did not mind. Ian’s breath was hot on his neck and Mickey had a random thought about how this wouldn’t be a terrible way to wake up everyday.

The second thing Mickey noticed was the distinct feeling of Ian’s morning wood nestled between his butt cheeks. Mickey bit back a grin and couldn’t resist gently grinding back against Ian’s boner, relishing the soft moan Ian let out.

Mickey rolled to lay on his other side so he could enjoy the view of Ian Gallagher in the morning light. He couldn’t deny the kid was ridiculously good looking and maybe if things were different.

"You want to talk about it?" Ian asked gently.

Mickey flushed but didn't pull himself out of Ian's grasp. He started chewing on his bottom lip, as he tended to do when he was nervous. The room was silent, the only sounds coming from their shallow breathing. After a few moments, Ian started to pull away, only to be stopped by Mickey's tightened grip.

Mickey still wasn't meeting his eye as he spoke. "My mom...she died when I was little. I was about 8 years old.”

Ian's heart sank at Mickey's revelation. This was obviously something he didn't talk about much, if at all, and Ian wanted to do something. To hold him tighter and never let him go. To tell him how sorry he was, how awful it is to lose a parent. But instead he stayed silent because that's what Mickey needed.

Mickey curled tighter into Ian, tucking his head under Ian's chin so he couldn't see his face and continued talking. "My dad is a fuckin' asshole. He always drank too much and ran his mouth. Guess that's where I get it from, huh?" Ian tensed because even though he didn't know exactly how this story was going to go, he had a pretty good idea, and Mickey shouldn't compare himself to a monster. He kept those thoughts silent though, for now. This was Mickey's time to talk and it was obvious he had a lot to say.

"He never laid a hand on us, at least while she was alive. But we found out later on that's 'cause she took most of the hits." Mickey stopped and took a deep breath, like he was deciding on how much exactly to tell Ian, before continuing. "My room was closest to theirs and I remember waking up in the middle of the night hearing voices yelling. I didn't realize what about at first 'til I heard my dad yell about how he would be damned if he was gonna let a goddamn faggot ruin the Milkovich name. Hell, I wasn't even sure til a few years ago that I was gay but my dad sure as fuck knew when I was still in single fuckin' digits. Parents instinct, I guess."

"Mickey, I--" Ian started, but was silenced by Mickey with a look.

"I don't remember much more of the argument after that. I heard a couple of loud noises and then nothing. I never saw my mom again. The next morning at breakfast dad told us all that mom had packed her bags in the middle of the night an' left 'cause she couldn't deal with havin' such shitty kids. But later on when I was doin' the laundry, I saw all the blood on his clothes and I just knew. He...he killed her. Because of me." Mickey buried his face in Ian's shirt and tried to control the tears rolling out of his eyes.

Ian just held him tighter, rubbing reassuring circles on his back. He let Mickey softly sob into his shirt until he felt Mickey's breaths start to even out. "You know that wasn't your fault, Mickey. You do know that right?"

Because, fuck, that hurt Ian's heart to think that Mickey blamed himself for his mother's death.

Mickey sat up suddenly, turning out of Ian's grip. He quickly wiped his eyes and headed for the bathroom, calling out over his shoulder, "yeah well, it's all ancient fuckin' history now. No need to dwell on the past."

Ian heard the sink turn on and knew Mickey was trying to scrub out the evidence of his tears. He didn't say anything until Mickey exited the bathroom. "Mickey, if--"

"Just drop it, Gallagher." Mickey didn't sound angry or short, just sounded tired.

"I'm just sayin," Ian continued.

"And I'm sayin' fuckin' drop it, Gallagher!" Mickey yelled. "Goddammit you aren't my goddamn therapist or my boyfriend. Hell, you aren't even my friend. So fuckin' drop it."

Mickey quickly threw on a clean set of his cadet reds and grabbed his bag and was out of the dorm before Ian could get another word in.

Ian didn’t see him the rest of his day and in the evening went out with a couple other cadets and had a few too many drinks. He was awakened at around 3am by Mickey coming back into their dorm, reeking of whiskey and smoke. Their eyes met briefly before Ian rolled over so his back was facing his roommate and went back to sleep.

***

Ian woke up way too early, thanks to the loud ding of his PADD. He hadn’t slept much after Mickey had come home the night before and his head was pounding and his mouth like cotton. He couldn’t help replay Mickey’s hurtful words from the day before.

_You aren't my goddamn therapist or my boyfriend. Hell, you aren't even my friend._

Ian wasn’t delusional; he hadn’t been doodling hearts in his notebooks with their initials or planning their wedding or anything like that. Sure, he was a dreamer, but he was also very realistic. But he had thought he and Mickey were pretty good friends, at the least.

He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

He took a quick glance across the room at Mickey snoring away and wish he hadn’t. Apparently his roommate had gotten undressed the night before and then proceeded to pass out on his bed, if Mickey’s bare ass was any indicator

Ian managed to sit up and rub the sleep from his eyes before opening the message that was awaiting him. It was a message from Rear Admiral L. Cole, the supervisor of curriculum, requesting his presence immediately.  Ian groaned at  the message but dragged himself out of bed anyways, making a quick trip to the bathroom before pulling on his cadet reds.

Luckily the journey from his dorm to Admiral Cole’s office was a short one. Ian hoped this meeting would be brief so he could salvage what was left of his Sunday.

***

Ian knocked lightly on Admiral Cole’s door. Apparently the other man had been waiting on him, because the door immediately swung open. Ian was greeted with a hearty clap on his back and a very loud, “Cadet Gallagher!” which wasn’t helping his hangover.

Ian gave the Admiral a curt nod and a quiet, “sir,” before taking a seat in one of the chairs facing Admiral Cole’s desk. He wasn’t in the mood for any sort of small talk, so he was hoping the Admiral got to the point of this meeting quickly. Admiral Cole sat back behind his desk and swiveled so he was facing Ian. He leaned back and propped his feet up on his desk, his arms crossed behind his head, giving a very informal vibe to this last minute meeting.

“So, Ian, how are you adjusting to your classes here at Starfleet?” Cole asked.

His tone was calm but Ian noticed an edge of something else in his voice. Something seemed off and it set him on edge. He stared at Cole for a few moments before responding, “They are going well, sir.”

“That’s good to hear, son.”  Admiral Cole paused for a moment, moving his feet back to the floor and sitting up straight and continued speaking, “You know, I was very excited when I heard Clayton Gallagher’s son was enrolled in Starfleet; although, slightly confused when I saw you had registered for Xenolinguistics instead of taking the Captain’s track. Is there any particular reason for that?”

Ian shrugged, “I’m not really sure, sir. Languages has always been a major interest of mine and frankly I have no desire to captain a starship.”

Cole sighed deeply, his disappointment in Ian’s answer etched on his face. “Listen, Ian, it’s a hard time in the Federation right now and we could really use some good PR for once. Lately Starfleet has only been in the news for scandal and I would like to show the world what kind of organization this really is. What could be better than the story of a poor boy who lost his hero father and bravely made the decision to follow in this shoes?”

Ian could feel his face burning and the anger that was bubbling inside of him grew with every carefully crafted word that came out of Cole’s mouth. Ian closed his eyes, opening and closing his mouth a few times before replying, “I kept telling myself that I got into Starfleet on more than my father’s fucking name, but I guess I was kidding myself.”

“Cadet Gallagher,” Cole started, sitting up straight in his chair, his voice hard, “There is no need for that kind of language in--”

“No,” Ian interrupted, “I’ll tell you what there is no need for. There’s no need for you to wake me up at the crack of fucking dawn on a goddamn Sunday to tell me that I need to be more like my father because it’ll be good for your fuckin’ career.” Ian’s brain was telling him to stop but his anger was at max capacity and he needed to get it out before he exploded. “Do you know how the fuck it feels, Admiral Cole? To be reminded of your dad every single day? To be continually told that you’ll never be the man he was? I just wanted to go somewhere where I could be myself, somewhere where I truly belonged. And I thought that place was Starfleet, but I guess I was fuckin’ wrong about that one.”

Ian didn’t wait for a response from Admiral Cole. He stood up quickly and grabbed his bag before he exited the Admiral’s office, slamming the door shut on his way out. He took a deep breath and tried to ignore his weak knees and shaking hands. He wanted to go home, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. And he sure as hell couldn’t go back to his dorm; the last thing he needed was to deal with his moody roommate who hated him.

When he was finally able to get his feet to work again, he headed back in the direction of his dorm, determined to find a spot where he could think and not have to deal with anyone else’s bullshit the rest of the day.

***

It was after dark when MIckey realized he hadn’t seen or heard from his roommate all day. He thought he remembered Ian clodding around their dorm way too fuckin’ early this morning, but in his very hungover state at that hour, he couldn’t be sure. Worry started to creep into his bones and he tried to shake the feeling away. Ian Gallagher was a big boy and he didn’t need Mickey worrying about his whereabouts all the time.

His resolve lasted approximately three and a half minutes before he grabbed his PADD and typed out a quick message to Ian.

_where the fuck u at red? think i owe u an apology_

Mickey read and reread the message, hoping that the worry that was slowly spreading through his bones wasn’t obvious in the text. His message wasn’t a complete ruse; he had been a dick to pretty much his only friend and he hoped it wasn’t too late to fix what he fucked up.

_What I always fuck up._

He paced around the dorm and practically chewed a hole in his bottom lip for the 43 minutes it took Ian to answer. Mickey would deny how quickly he dove to his bed to retrieve his PADD once he heard the familiar PING that meant he had an incoming message.

Ian’s response was only one word, _Roof_ , but it was enough to put Mickey’s mind at ease. He threw his PADD back down and grabbed his boots before following after Ian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://linsmanuel.tumblr.com)


	4. the stars at night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey sighed. “Look, I really suck at this, but I’m trying here. So how about we do this - you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
> 
> Ian furrowed his brows in confusion, “The fuck does that mean?”
> 
> Mickey rolled his eyes before replying, “It means I’m gonna tell you why I’m such a fucked up asshole and then you’re gonna tell me what’s got your panties in a twist and then we are gonna go get drunk. Deal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thanks to [vickie](http://oliverhamptcn.tumblr.com). and please leave comments! they help keep me writing!

The first thing Mickey noticed when he got to the roof of their dorm was how clear the stars looked. The stars always looked bright at the Academy, nestled on the outskirts of San Francisco, but being up this high seemed to make them shine brighter.

The second thing he noticed was there was a very distinct _don’t fuck with me right now vibe_ emanating from his roommate. Ian was lying back in a tight white t-shirt and his cadet red pants, his jacket balled up and being used as a makeshift pillow. He had his eyes shut and didn’t open them when Mickey joined him on the roof; although Mickey noticed Ian’s body was visibly tense. Wherever Ian had gone off to early this morning really did a number on him. Part of Mickey felt like he should turn around and go back to his dorm and leave Ian in peace. The other part was dying to know what had gotten under Ian’s skin so badly. They had only known each other a few short weeks and the kid had seemed pretty unshakeable.

Mickey decided to stay and plopped down fairly ungracefully next to Ian. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for awhile, Mickey not wanting to push Ian into talking about anything he didn’t want to.  When it became obvious that Ian wasn’t going to break the silence, Mickey cleared his throat and spoke up, “You weren’t thinkin’ about doing something stupid like jumping were you?”

Ian snorted before he replied, his voice dripping with acid as he spoke, “What the fuck do you care, Mick? You aren’t my boyfriend; hell, you aren’t even my friend, remember?”

Mickey winced as Ian threw his words back at him. They sounded a hell of alot worse coming from Ian. “Listen, I know I was a giant fuckin’ asshole to you yesterday.”

“That’s the understatement of the goddamn century,” Ian shot back. He finally sat up and looked at Mickey, his green eyes shining with hurt and anger.

“Fuck, Gallagher,” Mickey sighed. “Look, I really suck at this, but I’m trying here. So how about we do this - you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Ian furrowed his brows in confusion, “The fuck does that mean?”

Mickey rolled his eyes before replying, “It means I’m gonna tell you why I’m such a fucked up asshole and then you’re gonna tell me what’s got your panties in a twist and then we are gonna go get drunk. Deal?”

Ian raised a single eyebrow at Mickey’s confidence but didn’t speak, just nodded in agreement.

Mickey rubbed his hand over his face and took a deep breath before continuing, “My dad was an abusive fucking asshole, which I’m sure you’ve pretty much guessed. He never started hitting me ‘til after my mom died but from that day on I was his number one target. My brothers tried to stop him but that only got them knocked around too and it wasn’t long before they stopped tryin’. Guess he was trying to beat the fag out of me,” Mickey laughed, if you could call it that.

It was obvious Mickey didn’t want to talk about this anymore and Ian didn’t want Mickey to talk about anything he was going to regret. He put a reassuring hand on Mickey’s arm and jumped slightly when Mickey wrapped his hand around Ian’s that was resting on his arm.

“Everyone that cares about me gets hurt, Ian.” Mickey’s voice was barely above a whisper. He turned and looked into Ian’s eyes and Ian hated how Mickey’s normally bright blue eyes seemed dull and filled with pain. “I don’t have any family anymore. I don’t have friends. You’re all I’ve got, Gallagher.” Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand before moving it to wipe at his eyes and the tears that were threatening to fall.

Ian gave Mickey a few moments to collect himself before taking a breath. “The day I was born, there was an anomaly, a lightning storm in space.” He didn’t look at Mickey, but he could feel his roommate’s questioning stare. “It happened right before a Romulan ship attacked the _U.S.S. Kelvin_ ; right before my father died.”

“You’ve heard of Clayton Gallagher, right? The hero captain of the _Kelvin_?” Ian continued. Mickey shook his head; it was mind boggling for Ian that there was someone who hadn’t heard of his father.

Okay, well he's my dad. My real dad. He was the first officer of the _Kelvin_ when my mother was pregnant with me. They were on a low risk peacekeeping mission and my dad didn't want to miss the birth of his son, so he got permission for my mother to travel aboard with him." Ian paused for a moment to take a breath, steadying himself. Mickey placed his hand back on Ian's arm, reassuring this time instead of needy.

"Anyways, Starfleet sent the _Kelvin_ to investigate the lighting storm and they ran into a Romulan ship, the _Narada_ , that came through a black hole and started firing on the ship. The Captain of the _Narada_ asked Captain Robau to come aboard and negotiate a cease fire. But they knew it was a trap and before Robau went aboard, he told my dad to evacuate the _Kelvin_ and put the ship on autopilot.

"The _Narada_ started shooting again and my dad followed his Captain's orders and started evacuating the ship. Apparently I was born sometime in between Robau going aboard the _Narada_ and the evacuation. But then the ship wouldn't go on autopilot and so my dad stayed on board so the _Narada_ couldn't destroy the evacuation shuttles. He used the ship’s weapons to shoot down the _Narada's_ missiles. My dad set the _Kelvin_ on a collision course so it would be destroyed."

Ian paused for a second to wipe his face, not noticing the tears had been freely flowing down his face for the past ten minutes. "My mom told me the last thing my dad heard before he died was me."

“Jesus, that’s pretty shitty.”

Ian snorted at Mickey’s attempt to be comforting before continuing. “Yeah. I mean, I never knew the guy but the way everyone talks about him...it’s hard to keep up with the legacy.” He stopped talking and started picking at the skin on his thumbs, his number one tell that he was stressed out and upset.

Mickey’s brows furrowed trying to figure out what all of this meant. Yeah, having a dead dad sucked but if you’ve had a dead dad for 18 years it’s not just gonna drive you to a silent vigil on a rooftop one night. The only thing that made sense was…

“Where did you go this morning? I heard your PADD go off and didn’t see you again the rest of the day. Can’t imagine you getting up at eight on Sunday morning without good reason.”

Ian tensed and Mickey knew he had hit the nail on the head. Ian’s voice was rigid when he answered. “Admiral Cole called me down for a meeting about my future.”

“What did that fuckstick want?” Mickey was trying not to get angry, but failing miserably.

“Long story short - I would be more valuable to him if I changed my career course and expressed interest in being a captain one day.”

“Fuck him, man. Fuck everyone. They just want to use your name to help fund this shithole. They don’t know who you really are.” Mickey was quiet but spoke with a mix of passion and anger that made Ian feel warmer than any Saurian brandy ever had.

“You really think so, Mick?” Ian wasn’t fishing for compliments, he was genuinely curious. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had his best interest in mind and wasn’t just thinking of the Gallagher name.

“Sure, I guess.” Mickey tried to brush it off, but Ian had seen through him already. He was brash and angry at the world, but he cared about Ian.

“Why?”

Mickey could tell instantly Ian’s question wasn’t him fishing for a compliment. It was the genuine curiosity of someone who had never had anyone believe in him before. Frankly, the thought made Mickey angry. This kid he had known for less than two months was obviously something more than his father’s son. He couldn’t put his finger on it yet, but there was definitely something special to this Gallagher kid.

He couldn’t say all of that, so he just shrugged instead. “Just a shot in the dark, but I’m guessing you’ve got a talented tongue, kid.”

Ian rolled his eyes at his corny roommate. “So can we move on to the ‘get drunk’ part of your plan yet?”

Mickey stood up and offered his hand out to help Ian up. “I bet I can find a bottle of Aldebaran whiskey with our name on it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come visit me on [tumblr](http://linsmanuel.tumblr.com)


End file.
